


Falling Slowly

by WriteSmart



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia is Bad at Communicating, Idiots in Love, Jaskier | Dandelion is Bad at Communicating, M/M, Mutual Pining, Roommates, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:28:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26104963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WriteSmart/pseuds/WriteSmart
Summary: Jaskier is 75% sure that moving in with Geralt after college was a good idea. Sure, financially it is probably one of the more sound decisions Jaskier has made-- Broadway is a tough world to enter into and so far he hasn’t made any big inroads-- and so it gives him a roof over his head while he looks for a job. It’s good, it’s a really good thing he was lucky enough to have. The only problem of course is that Jaskier is very deeply, problematically, and irreversibly in love with Geralt.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 24
Kudos: 296





	Falling Slowly

Jaskier is 75% sure that moving in with Geralt after college was a good idea. Sure, financially it is probably one of the more sound decisions Jaskier has made-- Broadway is a tough world to enter into and so far he hasn’t made any big inroads-- and so it gives him a roof over his head while he looks for a job. It’s good, it’s a really good thing he was lucky enough to have. The only problem of course is that Jaskier is very deeply, problematically, and irreversibly in love with Geralt.

It’s stupid, and it shouldn’t even be a problem except sometimes when Jaskier looks at Geralt his stomach roils and flips and he’s worried that his desperate want to be held in Geralt’s arms is palpable, and he’s going to be found out soon. But Geralt has this very complicated thing going on with Yennefer, and Jaskier is pretty sure they’re still in love, and they have a daughter to take care of whom Geralt bought this little house for so she had a place to stay when she visited him, so why would Geralt even notice Jaskier. And Yennefer is beautiful and smart and could kick anyone’s ass and has a real job, and Jaskier is-- Jaskier is trying. 

So he gets up in the mornings and looks at Geralt’s stupidly handsome face, and resolutely does not hate Yennefer because his emotions are not her fault, and wills himself to make it through this jobless dry spell. (And if he watches bad romance movies at one in the morning and almost cries a little because he’s so fucking lonely and hasn’t been held in a while well that’s no ones business but his own.)

June dawns bright and unbearably hot. Jaskier has to peel himself off of his sweat soaked bed sheets and immediately makes his way into a cool shower before doing anything else. Jaskier then stumbles down to breakfast, hair wet and in an old t-shirt, to find out that Geralt, unlike any other normal human being, decided to go running this morning instead of either lazing in bed or trying to cool off.

He’s leaning against the kitchen counter, hair up in a bun and shining with sweat. Asshole can’t even sweat ugly he has to look like some heroic warrior with damp hair and a tight tank top to show off his huge fucking arms.

Geralt looks up as Jaskier enters the kitchen, “the ants are back,” he says in lieu of the usual greetings.

“And good morning to you too Geralt,” Jaskier snarks, elbowing Geralt out of the way so he can make his way to the freezer to look for the box of Eggos. 

“You were supposed to buy ant traps, Jaskier.”

“Well I figured we would let Roach give it a go as a trusted pest controller. What do you think about that Roach?” Jaskier asks, patting Geralt’s frankly humongous Main Coon cat on the head who does not look exceedingly pleased to see him.

“Don’t touch Roach, Jaskier,” Geralt grumps, finishing up his coffee and rinsing it out in the sink before heading out of the kitchen to shower. “And buy the fucking ant traps.”

“Always happy to be living with someone so cheerful in the morning,” Jaskier says to mostly himself and Geralt’s retreating (and very muscular) back. 

Waffles toasted and buttered Jaskier checks his email for any replies to his applications, but finds nothing but spam in his inbox. Just for a moment he feels something like failure burn in the back of his throat, but he’s able to quickly swallow it down. It’s not his fault that the Broadway and theater game is a little rough to play. It’s not that they don’t like him specifically, it’s just that no one is hiring right now. It’s a bad season. Yeah that sounds good in Jaskier’s head. 

‘Well they must have hired someone to fill that vacancy,’ that little voice in his head that has always sounded suspiciously like his father crows. 

Jaskier shakes his head. Today is not the day to think of that. He deserved to go to college, he deserved to major in what he wanted, everything will work out soon. This isn’t divine retribution for not just doing what his parents wanted him to do. 

Jaskier picks up his guitar for lack of anything else. Geralt, who does a lot of coding and mostly works from home, has definitely started work by now, so it’s not like Jaskier has anything else to do today. He strums a few chords and listlessly picks at the opening of Going to California before giving up. He wishes Geralt would come sit with him for a little, maybe even sing, or just tell him he sounds good today. But that’s selfish of Jaskier. Geralt is working, and he’s already let Jaskier mooch off of him, and Geralt doesn’t even really like to hear Jaskier anyway. It’s distracting and that’s fine. To each their own, right?

He switches to playing Suite: Judy Blue Eyes and thinks about how his mother used to put this album on when he was young and still thought the world could belong to him. She would swing him around the kitchen singing the higher parts and laughing with him. She used to tell him how loved he was, how loved he would be. Jaskier wonders when he should stop hanging onto the hope that she’ll end up being right. 

Jaskier stops playing. It’s never good to think of his mom on days like this. No good wishing she could come rub his head again and tell him it’ll all be ok. 

A week into June, and Jaskier still has yet to hear from any of the places and shows he had hopefully applied to. But something does change in his monotonous routine when Geralt peaks his head out of the office half way through the work day and says—

“I think we should fix up the deck.”

“What deck?” Jaskier asks through a mouthful of sandwich and hunched over his laptop. 

“The deck attached to the house Jaskier. The deck right there.”

“You think we can build a deck?”

“I think I can build a deck, I think you can be an extra set of hands.”

“Glad that I am well loved within this household”

“Come on Jaskier I think it could be good.”

“For who? I think I’ll get very dirty and very tired doing it, so definitely not good for me.”

“For the house Jaskier. Good for the house. We could entertain on it when it’s all fixed” Geralt says while adopting his ‘Jaskier is annoying me’ face. 

“You know what?” Geralt continues, “I’ll do it myself if you’re so adamant about not getting dirty.” He then turns to storm out of the room.

“Wait, wait,” Jaskier calls, “I’ll help. Sorry I don’t know why I’m so fucking obnoxious all the time. It’s the least I can do Geralt with you putting up with me all of the time.”

Geralt turns, his face softening into something a little harder to pinpoint. For a second it looks like he’s about to say something in response, but then thinks better of it and merely nods his acknowledgment. 

God Jaskier keeps fucking up every time he talks to Geralt. He couldn’t have just said yes to the request and been easy, he always has to push and whine. Maybe that’s why he’s alone in a house with his crush who’s in love with someone else and no job offers to speak of. 

Jaskier gets up and grabs his sneakers. “I’m going out,” he yells into the quiet house.”

Jaskier drives down to the high school and runs sprints across the field and then around the track. Pushing himself through the familiar motions of running feels good. Track in college and high school was the only time he could stop thinking, and it seems to still be the only way to get his brain to shut up. He runs and runs and runs until lungs give out and his leg cramps up, and then limps back to the car to drive home. 

Geralt takes two days off of work the next week and orders a dumpster to take apart the old, rotting deck that’s currently just barely attached to the house. 

Jaskier comes down on demo day in an old cut off t-shirt and running shorts. When he meets Geralt in the kitchen he gives a little spin to show off his work outfit. 

“Looking good yeah? Cut off the sleeves myself to achieve this very chic deck building outfit.”

Geralt swallows hard and looks at Jaskier for a beat too long. Jaskier crosses his arms a little self consciously and shifts under Geralt’s stare. 

“It’s fine right?” Jaskier asks. 

Geralt seems to snap out of it and grunts, “yeah you’re fine. Put your boots on and let’s get started.”

Outside Geralt gives him a big mallet to knock down the railings around the deck which is more cathartic than Jaskier realized it would be. A bonus of course is watching the muscles in Geralt’s arms and back strain and sweat under the hot sun. Jaskier almost bangs his own fingers while trying to multitask watching Geralt and knocking things over. 

They break for lunch at noon when it gets too hot. Geralt makes them both sandwiches and they eat in companionable silence. After, Jaskier darts inside and pulls out two popsicles that he specifically bought for these hot days. 

Geralt rewards him with one of his rare, full face smiles at the push pops. “Thank you Jaskier,” he rumbles.

When he grabs the popsicle his hand brushes over Jaskier’s, which gives Jaskier a full spike of serotonin. Jaskier hasn’t been touched in months, the job search isn’t the only dry spell he’s going through, and god this one moment of making Geralt happy and being rewarded by him with some hand on hand action is really affecting Jaskier. It’s a little sad, but that is not going to stop Jaskier from buying more popsicles to replay this moment for as many days as possible. 

Fuck. Maybe Jaskier should just do a club run and get fucking laid for one night. The last couple of times he tried that though Jaskier had been totally uninterested in every person who hit on him and had no drive to do the hitting on. But whatever he’s totally fine and not lonely at all. 

Over the next few days the demolition duo pries up the floorboards of the deck and knocks everything else down. They haul all of the wooden boards up to the dumpster which has Jaskier’s arms burning by the time they are done. Secretly though, he stands in front of the full length mirror in his room after and flexes his biceps and thinks maybe just maybe this is actually giving him a little muscle. 

That second night, after a full day of demolition where Geralt laughs twice at Jaskier’s jokes and even listens to him sing, Jaskier checks his email and sees another “thanks for applying but no thank you email”, and all of the air rushes out of him. If only he could find a job, make a little money, and fucking move out for his sanity. Then Geralt would be less annoyed with him, and Jaskier wouldn’t be on the constant verge of blurting out that he’s head-over-heels in love with the idiot. Maybe he could even get over Geralt and get on with his life. 

But Jaskier hasn’t done anything right in so long so why would he start now? 

To add insult to injury Jaskier can hear Geralt on the phone with Yennefer almost every night. Jaskier’s shame is virtually non-existent so he presses his ear against the adjoining wall of their two rooms and strains to hear their conversation. Geralt seems to be deflecting teasing about something and also promising to take Cirri out tomorrow. He wonders what Geralt could be denying so vehemently. 

Geralt takes Jaskier out to pick out wood colors for the deck the next weekend. Which is fun. They also have to dig holes for the footings. Which is not fun. Jaskier has blisters on his hands and has to go for runs three nights in a row to stop thinking about Geralt laid out in the grass after digging with no shirt on and a lazy smile on his face. 

Jaskier is exhausted the third night of running and curls up on the coach unable to move. He puts on Below Deck because it’s his guilty pleasure and the easiest escapist show. Geralt ambles into the living room and takes in his sprawled posture and the ankle he’s icing (old injury) easily. 

“You good?” He asks. 

“Mmm. Fine, just sore.” Jaskier answers. 

Geralt comes over to the coach and gently lifts Jaskier’s legs before sitting down and putting them in his lap. He slowly begins to rub his thumbs in circles around Jaskier’s ankle trying to relieve some of the ache. 

“What are you watching?” Geralt asks, like this is nothing. Like he hasn’t just absolutely fried Jaskier’s brain. 

“Uhh. Below deck,” Jaskier stutters out. “It’s a bad show I know but it’s easy to watch so…”

“Mmmm. Yeah it is,” Geralt says as he continues to rub tortuous circles on Jaskier’s ankles and even goes so far as to rub his huge fucking hands up Jaskier’s calves. 

Jaskier doesn’t move, barely even breaths, for three more episodes, out of fear that any small shift will send Geralt scampering away. He’s in fucking heaven right now. When Geralt finally gets up with a yawn and quiet good night Jaskier feels the phantom of Geralt’s hands on his legs for hours more. 

The deck comes along slowly. Posts go in and beams go up, and secretly Jaskier is pretty proud of his work. Also his wood color choices were spot on thank you very much Geralt. 

This weekend though instead of doing more work on the deck Geralt tosses him a life jacket and a cooler. 

“Are we going on an adventure Geralt?”

“It’s hot today. Thought we could borrow Yennefer’s kayaks and go out for a paddle.”

“Geralt! I’ve never been kayaking! What if I fall in?”

“Then you’ll get wet, Jaskier. We’ll paddle out to the island and have lunch and swim. You’ll like it.”

Jaskier quickly weighs the pros and cons of manually paddling a boat versus seeing Geralt shirtless again, and finally gives a little shrug. “It’ll be fun then.”

Kayaking, Jaskier learns, is fun for about ten minutes. Then his arms and back start to ache and his butt falls asleep from the hard seat. But he successfully doesn’t tip over and Geralt seems to be in a good mood; he’s not even annoyed by Jaskier yapping and his splashing seems to be all in good fun. 

It takes them half an hour to get to the island, and they pull up on the little beach seemingly with the whole place to themselves. Jaskier finally stands up and stretches with a very satisfied moan. When he turns around he catches Geralt staring at him before ducking down to grab the lunch supplies. Jaskier does one more stretch before coming over to help. 

They indulgently spread out under the shade of some trees and gorge on fresh fruit and ham and cheese sandwiches and too many chips. Jaskier lays back in the sun and hums Soak Up the Sun; it finally feels like the first real summer day. 

Jaskier is feeling lethargic from the sun and food when Geralt gives him a little nudge to rouse him from his almost nap. 

“Let’s swim,” he says, pulling off his shirt. 

“Yeah,” Jaskier says, mouth a little dry before shaking his head to rid his mind of any intrusive thoughts. 

Geralt splashes into the water and beckons Jaskier in after him, diving below the rippling water before coming up and shaking out his long hair like a dog. Jaskier pulls his shirt off and quickly makes his way into the water without loitering too long on display. He swims over to where Geralt is treading water. 

“It feels so fucking good to be in here,” Geralt says when he gets near.

“God yes. It’s been too long since I’ve been in the water.”

“We should come out more often. It’s only going to get hotter, and Yen said we could take the kayaks out any time.”

“Maybe we could also get into the water sans the 30 minute arm workout Geralt.”

“I thought you looked good captaining your own little boat.”

Jaskier blinks dumbly at that. He doesn’t think Geralt is joking with him, but what the fuck do you even say to that? Deflect, deflect, deflect Jaskier’s conscious chants loudly in his head. 

“Honestly Geralt, I can’t believe you Mr. Muscles would consent to lounging like this for so long.”

“ I know how to relax Jaskier!” Geralt says indignantly.

“Do you though?” Jaskier teases back. 

“Yes!” Geralt yells, punctuated with a little splash. 

Jaskier retaliates with even more water, and soon the two are embroiled in an all out water war. Jaskier gets a face full of water which catches him off guard for long enough that Geralt is able to get his arms around him and dunk him back under water. Jaskier comes up sputtering and coughing and still firmly encircled by Geralt’s arms. 

Jaskier has his hands on Geralt’s shoulders. He has his hands on Geralt’s shoulders and Geralt’s arms around his waist, and he finds himself absolutely entranced by Geralt’s piercing, amber eyes. They are so close. Why are they so close? If even just one of them leaned in they could kiss so easily. Geralt at a breath away smells like sunscreen and the strawberries they just ate and summer, and Jaskier is enraptured. For as long as Jaskier stares Geralt never seems to look away either. After a minute or an hour or an eternity Geralt raises a hand to gently run his fingers across Jaskier’s cheekbone, and Jaskier takes in a shuddering breath. His lack of oxygen most definitely not from the recent trip underwater. 

Geralt shifts, and leans in but Jaskier is frozen. His brain is screaming static and no help at all. After an awkward beat Geralt pulls his hand away and gently lets Jaskier down.

What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck. 

“You’re getting sunburned,” Geralt says, finally breaking the silence. He seems— Jaskier can’t tell. Maybe disappointed?

“Haha yeah I should have reapplied I guess.”

“We’ll make sure to get more on you before we paddle back.”

With that Geralt swims back to shore and Jaskier follows suit. The paddle back is quieter and Jaskier doesn’t dare complain at all. As he drives back home Geralt seems to be furiously texting someone. When they get back to the house Yennefer is sitting on their stoop, and Jaskier’s whole stomach drops out. She’s stunning as always. In a full suit— meaning she’s coming from the office— and looking like she could stomp anyone to death while winning best dressed simultaneously. Beautiful, deadly, brilliant, and everything Geralt is probably into. 

What the fuck was he even doing thinking Geralt might do something like kiss him when Yennefer is here too. Jaskier nods to her in greeting and hussles by so he can quickly and innocuously slip into the shower. He can’t make out what the two are saying but Jaskier thinks Yennefer is laughing and Geralt seems mad. Probably annoyed with Jaskier. 

Jaskier makes the quick sprint to his room to avoid any confrontation and flops down into bed. An unhopeful check of his emails shows he still hasn’t heard back from anyone he applied to either. A good fucking day thoroughly ruined. 

Later when Jaskier thinks it’s safe to emerge from his room he finds leftovers that can be easily reheated and a bottle of aloe Vera for his burns. 

The weeks begin to fly by. Geralt continues to work holed up in his office while Jaskier bops aimlessly around the house. Jaskier finally scores a job teaching various musical instruments to a handful of teens and two adults, which settles some throbbing ache deep in his chest and puts a little money into his pocket. Not enough though. Not enough to validate the college he went to or put him anywhere closer to the dreams he had or take up enough time in his day to make him stop fucking thinking about Geralt.

But the lessons are— fun. The people he’s teaching are genuinely interested in learning and it’s awesome watching them improve. The nice lady who employs him and rents him out to different musical beginners not so subtly implies that the local school might need a hand this year as the music teacher will be on maternity leave. But Jaskier doesn’t know. It’s not what he imagined doing, and everything short of his full realized dream feels like failure. Like giving up. Like admitting his dad was right. 

The deck continues to get built. The posts are all finally up and the frame starts coming together, but Geralt is quieter than usual as they work. There’s something awkward about how he interacts with Jaskier that is driving Jaskier around the fucking bend. Sometimes, Jaskier catches him looking at him while they work before quickly turning away.

Jaskier’s only solace over these few weeks is the fact that Roach has finally, begrudgingly taken to sitting just out of Jaskier’s reach, but most definitely in his presence. Roach even lets Jaskier pet him on three different occasions which is probably Jaskier’s biggest accomplishment in weeks. 

At the end of July Jaskier finally works up the courage to broach his and Geralt’s odd relationship to ask him to go out on another adventure. There is this meteor shower that is apparently going to be overhead tonight and Jaskier will be damned if he doesn’t go out to see a celestial event that won’t be back around for a while. Jaskier-- though he won’t admit it to anyone-- is a little bit afraid of the dark, and so standing alone in an empty field in the middle of the night isn’t the easiest thing for him. Ergo, he needs to get Geralt out of whatever funk he’s currently in and come out with him. 

Jaskier comes home after a really fun guitar lesson to Geralt making dinner. Jaskier parks himself at the peninsula in the kitchen and watches Geralt bop around in the kitchen throwing together some sort of pasta dish. Jaskier barely even notices that he is starting to chew at his already short nails. 

After a minute of this awkward tension Geralt finally cuts through it and says, “I can hear you thinking, Jaskier.”

“Just thinking about the skies you know?” Jaskier innocently asks. “Stars, comets, the moon….. meteor showers.”

“Hmmm,” Geralt grumps. “It sounds like you want to see the meteor shower tonight Jaskier. So why are you bringing it up to me so weirdly.”

“I’m not weird Geralt!” Jaskier gasps “that was a perfectly normal segue into a perfectly lovely invitation to a wonderful night out with a great friend to watch a theoretically amazing meteor shower.”

Jaskier makes a quick note to work on his nervous ramblings while Geralt finishes up plating dinner and walks it over to the table. Jaskier follows. Geralt still hasn’t said anything, and god the anticipation is awful. 

“What time does it start?” Geralt finally asks. 

“Like ten,” Jaskier answers, “we could go down to that empty field, maybe bring some blankets, and lay down and watch without a lot of light pollution. God the craziest thing moving back out away from a city is that you can see stars every night Geralt. It’s insane. I had forgotten how many of them there are! And I’ve always wanted to see a meteor so-“

“I’ll go,” Geralt cute Jaskier off mid stream.

“So I really want to… wait you’ll go? You’ll really come? We don’t even have to stay that long Geralt.” 

“It’s fine. It’ll be fun.”

And with that passionate proclamation Jaskier digs into his dinner with renewed enthusiasm, giddy for the first time in months. 

As they clean up dinner, Jaskier can’t help but notice that Geralt seems… odd. Jaskier would never ascribe ‘nervousness’ to Geralt, but that seems to be the energy he’s throwing off. He’s jittery putting away the dishes and doing a very low key version of that freak out cleaning that Jaskier does once a month. He also keeps texting someone so frantically that Jaskier finally asks--

“Who the hell are you texting right now?”

Geralt looks up wide eyed like he was caught in the act. “Yennefer,” he quickly replies before stuffing his phone deep into his pocket so Jaskier can’t see. 

Ugh, Geralt’s being weird about texting the girl he loves. Whatever. It’s meteor shower night, and nothing will dissuade Jaskier from dragging Geralt out with him even if something’s going on with Yennefer. He deserves this goddammit.   
Geralt grabs their picnic blanket as they leave the house under the cover of darkness. The field is literally down the street, so they decide to walk. Jaskier is fairly certain nothing murderous and/or supernatural will fuck with them while Geralt is there looking like a brick wall of defense, so it doesn’t feel that creepy. It’s late July now, and thus the nights have finally cooled off from barely bearable to habitable. The cicadas have started singing their rousing chorus of ‘summer is ending, fall will be here soon’ and the sound floods over Jaskier as they walk. It’s all so fucking nostalgic, and brings Jaskier right back to his childhood summers before he ran off to the bright, unwavering lights of the city with even brighter dreams. He wonders if he met that boy he used to be now-- that boy who caught fireflies in jars and sang out on the porch with his mother and tramped through the grass to pick dandelions-- would this adult version of him be even recognized.

Geralt is quiet on the walk as per usual. Jaskier wonders what he’s thinking about. 

They meander out to the center of the field, and Geralt spreads the blanket out for them. It’s not very big, so they lay down shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip, and leg to leg. Geralt is a furnace next to him, but Jaskier thinks that Geralt’s literal body temperature isn’t the only thing contributing to how hot and bothered this setup is getting him. 

“I don’t know many constellations,” Jaskier finally says, if only to say something. “I only know the big dipper, and other than that I just made them up as a kid.”

Geralt considers this for a moment and then points up at the expense of the sky, the just visible Milky Way a Jackson Pollock painting of stars on black canvas, and carefully traces out a ‘W’ shape from all the swirls and whirls of starlight.

“That’s Casseopeia,” he says. He points to another cluster, “That’s Cygnus, the swan.”

Geralt is quiet for a moment drinking in the night. “My brother used to take me out to show me all the constellations,” he finally says. 

“You never talk about your family much, Geralt,” Jaskeir murmurs in response.

Geralt laughs a little humorlessly. “I’ll tell you about them someday,” he promises. 

Jaskier thinks he’ll hold onto that idea of ‘someday’. A time in the future where they will still have each other, and Geralt will finally rely on Jaskier as someone to confide in. 

Before Jaskier can respond though a sliver of light streaks across the sky. Then another, and another, and another. It leaves Jaskier in open mouth wonder. He’s never seen anything like it. They’re like droplets of shining white paint rolling so fast across the sky before blinking out of existence. There one moment and gone the next. Jaskier can’t help but laugh in awed joy, and Geralt joins in with a few chuckles of his own. 

“You’re supposed to wish for something,” Geralt whispers as though loath to disturb the performance above them. 

“Wish on all of them?” Jaskier asks, “that seems greedy don’t you think?”

“Why not?” Geralt counters, “you deserve it.”

Jaskier doesn’t know what to say to that, but god he does need every one of those stars to cover all that he wishes for. Geralt to love him, Broadway to hire him, Roach to tolerate him, his dad.

“So?” Geralt says, “what did you wish for.”

“If I tell you what I wished for it won’t come true Geralt!” Jaskier says faux aghast. “And I need it to come true so very terribly. Would you risk telling me Geralt?”

“No I wouldn’t,” Geralt says abruptly.

“See,” Jaskier crows in vindication.

“I wouldn’t tell you,” Geralt cuts in, “I wouldn’t tell you because I could show you what I wished for.”

And before Jaskier can even ask what the fuck that means there is suddenly a body hovering over him, knees bracketing his hips, hands cradling his head, and a mouth covering his. 

Kissing Geralt feels like coming home. Like he had for so long been lost and untethered in the world, struggling and clawing for any sort of attention, and now he has finally found a place to lay, a place to stay, a place to be loved. It is not an act of surrendering to Geralt, but one of being welcomed home to a safe and caring place. Geralt runs his hands down Jaskier’s side making him shiver, and Jaskier can’t help but throw his arms around Geralt’s neck and deepen the kiss. 

Geralt kisses Jaskier like he has known him forever, loved him forever, will love him forever. 

And then that little fucking voice in the back of Jaskier’s mind says, ‘so why was he texting Yennefer?’

That thought is a bucket of ice water poured right over Jaskier. He wrenches himself back from Geralt and out of this little lifelong fantasy he’s created in his head. God he’s so fucking stupid to lose himself like this when he knows that Yennefer is still here. Pining after Geralt was torture, but having Geralt and losing him would be unendurable. 

So he pulls back, and Geralt looks at him so confused. “I thought you wanted this Jaskier,” he says. “Yennefer even said…”

Jaskier snorts out a disbelieving laugh, “Yennefer thought I’d want this? Y’all thought I’d want this? To be a fun fuck for a little while why you and Yennefer are sorting your relationship out? You think I don’t know that you two are always fucking mocking me for this? For wanting you, for loving you?”

“What? Jaskier, that’s not what this is. You love me?” Geralt stutters out. 

“Oh don’t pretend you haven’t fucking known. I know why you’d chose her, I really do and I don’t blame you, but don’t fuck with me like this Geralt.”

Geralt makes an aborted move for Jaskier, but Jaskier rolls off the ground and physically puts distance between them.

“Jaskier I…” Geralt shakes his head apparently unable to get any words out.

Jaskier watches him struggle for something to say before shrugging his shoulders. “Fine, whatever, let’s just forget about it.” Jaskier begins backing away adding a quick, “Well forget tonight even happened,” before fully turning around and storming away. If Geralt gave a shit he could easily catch up, but nothing happens. Jaskier makes it all the way without the big oaf so la di fucking da. 

He’s trembling when he sits on the bed. He touches his lips to feel the ghost of Geralt on them before trying to shake out of it. Fuck. It was everything he could have dreamed of, why did he have to say something. Yennefer and Geralt are made for each other and Jaskier could have been so happy for them if they didn’t make this fucking plan to give Jaskier a quick pity fuck. Now that he knows what it is like to slot perfectly into Geralt’s arms he’ll never be able to get over him. 

Jaskier is interrupted from his reverie by a notification ping on his laptop. The last job he applied to a month ago before getting his teaching gig finally got back to him. It’s a no. This final rejection is what puts Jaskier over the edge, and suddenly a torrent of emotion breaks over the carefully built dam in his chest and rushes out. Jaskier finds himself absolutely sobbing, each heaving gulp like a shard of glass in his throat. He can’t breath, he can’t stop, it’s all too much. He’s gasping, shaking, and a fucking mess as months of pent up failure and shame pour out. 

Jaskier doesn’t even hear the door to the house open, or the frantic knocks on his bedroom door before it bursts open. Suddenly there are hands around his waist dragging him up from the fetal position he had apparently adopted on the floor to the bed. The same hands pull his head down onto a lap and stroke through his hair. Someone is trying to calm him down, telling him to breathe, and god the last person to do this for him during a melt down like this was his mother, and doesn’t that thought just send him spiraling again.

After what feels like an eon, Jaskier finally runs out of tears to cry and just ends up hiccupping and shaking, and he is finally cognizant of the person helping him. 

“Geralt?” Jaskier croaks out. 

“Yes, Jaskier, I’m here,” Geralt answers, his voice a soothing rumble against Jaskier’s skull. 

And because Jaskier is in a puddle of self depreciation he can’t help but ask, “why?”

“Because-- because I fucking love you Jaskier,” Geralt nearly shouts. “God I fucked up so bad tonight. I wasn’t… I couldn’t… I don’t have the words that you do Jaskier, but that wasn’t Yen and I setting you up. I’ve been trying to ask you out for months but I couldn’t buck up the courage to do it because I was so scared you’d say no, so Yen was trying to help me.”

Now that has Jaskier alert and sitting up. “What?” he can’t help but ask. He looks Geralt in the eye, but he can’t find any hint of lie or trickery. This is the most vulnerable Geralt has ever looked, and he just admitted to loving Jaskier. 

Geralt… loves him. 

“I just couldn’t figure out how to say it, Jaskier. And I fucked up so bad tonight that I sent you home crying and--”

“I love you,” Jaskier cuts him off. He takes a shaky breath. “I love you,” he reverently confesses again. 

And it is like someone cut all the strings pulling Geralt tight as his shoulders finally drop and a small smile curls onto his face. “I love you too,” he says back. 

Geralt kisses him again. Slow and sweet. An apology and a promise all wrapped into one. Geralt then rolls them around so he can lay down on the bed and pull Jaskier up so his head is resting on Geralt’s chest-- just over his heartbeat-- and Geralt runs his fingers through Jaskier’s hair. 

After a minute Geralt tentatively asks, “so were you crying because of me?”

Jaskier sighs, “you among other things,” he responds.

“Hmmm?” Geralt hums in lieu of actually asking the question.

Jaskier never planned on opening up to Geralt with his occupational woes, but it seems that once the love declaration fell out, everything else came up with it. 

“It’s just that I spent money on college to be an actor, and that hasn’t really panned out yet, and I can only find teaching jobs, and it’s just, it’s never what I thought I’d be doing.”

“Do you like teaching?” Geralt asks.

“Yeah I do,” Jaskier admits. “But I can’t get the higher paying teaching jobs because I have no teaching experience or a certificate so it doesn’t really matter how much I like it if it’s unsustainable financially.”

“Why don’t you go back to school then? Or find a way to get certified.”

“It’s expensive and I can’t afford school and living, Geralt.”

“You’ll live here,” Geralt responds as though it’s obvious, “and you know that I’ll talk you into accepting that offer, so what’s the real problem.”

Jasker worries at his lip, but can’t stop himself from finally admitting, “If I go back to school for something else it’s accepting that I failed. That I should have listened to my dad in the first place and sucked it up and gone into business or stem and that what I majored in was idiotic just like he said.” Jaskier can feel that sob building up back in his throat. 

“You liked your college courses though, right?” Geralt asks.

“It was the best time in my life,” Jaskier answers. 

“So then college wasn’t a waste. And you didn’t fail. What you have done gave you the skills needed to tutor which showed that you like to teach. Doing something that you didn’t plan to do when you were a freshman in college doesn’t mean you fucked up your life, it just means that your interests have changed!”

Jaskier lets that sit for a minute. Not a failure. He can imagine teaching at the high school, he really can. And the local theater is always looking for help with their plays every year. It isn’t something he would have ever imagined doing at 18 defiantly filling out the theater major application to the horror of his parents. But it is something adult him can imagine doing, and being happy doing. 

Jaskier begins to feel sleepy, the crying episode and resolution of sexual tension really drained him, so he closes his eyes and snuggles deep into Geralt’s chest. Geralt seems to have nodded off during his internal debate, but even while unconscious Geralt still pulls Jaskier in tight and curls protectively around him. Jaskier is going to look into teaching certificates tomorrow. Maybe he’ll try the Broadway run again some day, but right now, Jaskier knows he’ll be happy in this house, with this man, teaching bright and excited students. 

They actually finish the deck. Jaskier is amazed at their deck building abilities and thinks they should have their own HGTV show as amateur deck builders. Geralt very foundly rolls his eyes at him. 

They have a “we built a deck!” party and a “we actually got together party!”. People are overwhelmingly more surprised about the former than the latter. Yennefer seems to be the most excited for the two of them, and Jaskier is hopeful that without all of his completely unfair jealous anger towards her the two of them will become good friends. This process will probably be aided by the fact that Cirri wants to learn guitar, a teaching opportunity that Jaskier immediately jumped on as a chance to get to know and love Geralt’s daughter. 

And yes, Jaskier is starting an alternative route to certification classes and is already in contact with the high school about taking over for the music teacher who after her maternity leave decided she wanted to stay home with her new baby. Jaskier for the first time in a long time finds that day to day he is truly and perfectly happy.   
Geralt adds to that joy every day. They do stupidly domestic things now like cook together and grocery shop together. Every night leaves Jaskier feeling extremely and thoroughly well loved, and then they get to fall asleep together in each other’s arms. Geralt buys Jaskier a telescope to put on the porch for his birthday; watching the stars becomes a weekly ritual. He remembers Jaskier’s favorite poems and listens to him sing every day. They marathon Below Deck together and Jaskier begrudgingly watches Geralt’s horror movies with him. He tells Jaskier he loves him every day and never once complains about Jaskier’s need to be held or touched constantly (he even encourages it).

So yeah. Jaskier thinks he’s going to be good.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope y'all liked this one! Suppose to be a short little one shot piece but then it got a little longer. This piece was 100% based off the fact that I had to build a deck this summer and there was this girl I was low key into but I missed my shot, so here's to me writing fictional characters who didn't miss their shot and found fulfilling employment haha!! If you liked it I always appreciate likes and/or kudos, but thanks for checking it out!


End file.
